


A Tune Without Words

by Niobium



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2325770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niobium/pseuds/Niobium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tune Without Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



> For The_Plaid_Slytherin in AvengersFest 2014. 
> 
> Some Steve & Thor bonding in the wake of _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_. The Jane/Thor is background and mostly implied.

***

Three days after Steve gets out of the hospital, Stark lures him and Sam to his Tower in New York, which now sports a huge A on the side of it. His offer sells itself: supplies and a starter kit of useful SHIELD intel on the Winter Soldier. The later is courtesy of the company’s new hire, Maria Hill. She’s actually the one who delivers the sales pitch to them, so Steve trusts it more than he might otherwise. 

Maria doesn’t mention the obvious reason to say yes (that any immediate trail Bucky might have left is long cold, so they’re starting from scratch and what’s another day) but Steve is sure that’s occurred to her. Sam also points out that, taken together with the file they have from Natasha, Stark and Hill’s help could go a long way to shortening their search. Steve can’t deny either line of reasoning, and the reality is Stark has access to far more resources than either of them do. He tells himself several times that the delay isn’t giving up hope, that this is something they can’t undertake without preparation, and that’s what Stark is really offering. A helicopter flies them to New York the next morning.

They’re not in the building an hour before Stark is also offering them an apartment to keep their stuff in, even live in if they want. He reasons that being gone from their own places for extended periods is bad security, and anyways, he’ll only charge them enough rent to keep the IRS disinterested. Steve expresses his reluctance, at which Sam gives him an incredulous look and says, “Are you out of your mind?” That’s the end of their discussion about whether or not to accept.

Colonel Rhodes is also on site for the day, having flown in to work with Stark on some changes to their suits, and Sam is _all about_ meeting the guy who greenlit the Falcon project (and who is also Iron Patriot). Steve finds the Colonel’s timing highly convenient, and says something to that effect to Stark, which earns Steve a pout but no actual claims of innocence.

The three of them get to discussing the wings, in particular how Sam could use a new set. It’s a conversation Steve feels is somewhat outside his area of expertise, so he leaves them to their project and goes in search of a way to work off the nervous energy building up inside him. He knows the time waiting for Maria’s inquiries to pan out and letting Rhodes and Stark pick Sam’s brain about the wings is well spent, but his neck and shoulders are tense with the need to act. 

Fortunately, Stark has a top-notch gym just for himself and his personal guests on the 71st floor. It has everything from punching bags to practice weapons to a shooting a range and even a heated pool. Steve tours the facility first, checking out the equipment and the locker room, trying to discern if anyone else is using it. He finds only one other occupant, and though he has no real expectations of who to see in Stark’s private gym, he’s still surprised.

Steve doesn’t recognize him at first, because he’s wearing black and red Stark Industries sweats and has his long, blond hair pulled back into a queue, and Steve’s only mental image of Thor doesn’t include things this mundane. He’s doing some manner of offensive routine with a kettlebell that might weigh almost as much as one of Stark’s suits, swinging it in a manner reminiscent of his hammer and murmuring under his breath as he moves. On one of his turns he spies Steve, and that swing is the last; he sets the kettlebell down with a heavy _thump_ and wipes his hands before approaching and offering his hand.

“Captain Steven Rogers. It is very good to see you again.”

Steve goes to shake hands, but instead Thor clasps his arm just past the wrist, which Steve mimics after an awkward moment. If Thor notices Steve’s confusion it’s not obvious in his amiable expression, so Steve says, “It’s good to see you too. And kind of a surprise—I figured you’d gone back home once everything with that ship was cleared up.”

Something flickers in Thor’s eyes, and he glances away. Steve wonders what exactly went on behind the scenes in Greenwich—before, after, during—that wasn’t caught on video. “I did, but I have returned for the time being.” He looks at Steve again. “My people know very little of Midgard, and I wish to learn more.” He raises his eyebrows. “Are you well? Stark told me you were some time in a healing ward after your battle with the flying ships.”

“Yeah, had to rest up a few days.” Steve pauses. “Did Stark mention anything else?”

Thor gives him an even look. “That SHIELD was betrayed from within, and this ‘Hydra’ is what you fought. That one of your friends from long past was being used as a pawn in their schemes. And that he is now free of them, but gone.”

Steve sighs and looks down at the floor. “Yeah. It’s kind of a long story.”

Thor says nothing until Steve looks at him again. For a moment all he does is watch Steve, radiating unvoiced understanding, then he says, “Were you planning to train?”

“Yeah. I need to work off some steam.”

Thor tips his head at a rack of equipment, among which are a series of long, heavy staffs. “Is a staff to your liking? I have not trained with one in some time, and I would benefit greatly from practicing with an opponent such as yourself.”

Since it’s been a while for Steve too he says yes. The extra focus needed to remember everything will be good, and it’s a novelty to spar with someone who he’s not in immediate danger of seriously injuring. He fetches some sweats and a water bottle from the locker room (Stark really has thought of everything) and chooses a staff made of a composite material that’s light but strong. Thor has one that looks heavier and which has a slightly longer reach.

It turns out Thor isn’t just good with hammers. This isn’t really that much of a surprise; it makes sense Asgardians would, just like Earth’s military personnel, train in numerous skill sets. As Steve warms up, Thor explains that special, magic staffs are used by the ranks of Asgard’s Berzerkers, shock troops whose primary weapon is barely-controlled rage. Spears are also common favorites among some of their warriors, sometimes with enchantments if they’re for use against particularly powerful foes. Steve puts down trading actual war stories with Thor as something to do in the future, because he’s sure Thor’s speaking from personal experience and not just memorized history passed down in school.

Once Steve’s ready they square off. Their first handful of passes at one another are a getting-to-know-you phase; they hold back and choose their moves with care, feeling out limits and learning strengths. After that they slowly ramp things up, until it’s the kind of workout Steve never gets outside of a fight. 

Later, while they’re resting on a bench, Thor says, “Your friend, who is missing. You will search for him?”

Steve nods. “Natasha gave us a file. I’ve got some ideas based on that. Sam has a few too. And Maria and Stark offered to help.” He takes a long drink from his water bottle. After a few minutes of companionable silence they take up their staffs again, but Thor leans on his rather than holding it ready. 

He says, “Have you considered that he may not wish for you to come for him?”

Steve steps clear and spins his staff around himself. That has, in fact, been one of the larger things on his mind. “Yeah. I have.”

“Then you know he may refuse any aid you offer.”

Steve grips the staff hard enough that his knuckles turn white. It’s a testament to Stark’s access to materials that it doesn’t warp in his hands. “Yeah.”

Thor grunts and straightens. “And if that is what he does?”

“I’ll convince him. He’s not half as stubborn as me.”

Steve is certain he can see, for a second, a look in Thor’s eyes which is equal parts sympathy and resignation, and he knows that Thor’s thinking about his brother and how he found himself in basically the same position. “I have to try," Steve says, and he's not totally sure who he wants to convince that there’s any hope of this turning out better for him and Bucky than it did for Thor.

Thor’s expression eases. “That much you should do,” he agrees, and tilts his head. “Will you go alone?”

“Sam’s coming with me. He helped me stop Hydra.”

“He is the Falcon?”

Steve almost laughs, because if Sam were present he’d get a kick out of Thor referring to him as ‘The Falcon’. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Thor nods in approval and raises his staff. They go another few rounds, until Steve feels the edge in him subside, and he can’t help but note Thor has barely even broken a sweat. Now he’s _glad_ Sam’s not here, because he’d be hearing about it for days.

They call it quits and clean up, and Thor shows Steve to the kitchen. Between living with Jane Foster (who Steve knows about from magazine articles and mandatory SHIELD briefings) in her mother’s house in London and now here in the Tower (while Jane works with Banner and Stark on some new projects), he’s learned quite a bit about cooking human-style. Though he also admits that human appliance design decisions perplex him. 

“There are several different devices which all perform similar tasks,” he says. “This seems to me a peculiar use of space, but Asgard is not so large as Midgard.”

He’s talking about the microwave, toaster, and toaster oven, which taken together eat up a fair bit of counter real estate, and sit right next to a potentially redundant, larger appliance—the range. Steve has to think for a second on how to explain this aspect of human life, because how often do you get to describe such everyday things to an alien.

“The smaller ones are mostly about saving time and energy. It takes more power and time to turn on the oven if all you want to do is reheat some soup, or toast some bread.” Steve is, in fact, using the toaster oven to toast a bagel even now. Thor has opted to simplify his meal by avoiding any of these appliances, and is making himself some sandwiches from deli meats and cheeses and various vegetables. His combinations are a little odd, but Steve supposes if he was in a new world and presented with a selections of random items to combine he’d experiment too.

“Why not devise a single apparatus which is still efficient in time and energy use no matter the extent of the task? It would require less room and training to use, and could still provide all of what is needed.”

“It might be too complicated. Complicated things with a lot of parts break more often, so they’re hard to maintain. They’re usually expensive too. Also, we’re kind of a demand-oriented world; if there’s not already a demand, not a lot of people want to stick their necks out and try making something people might not care about. We’ve already got toasters and toaster ovens and microwaves, and they’re more affordable than all of those things combined into a range might be.”

Thor makes a low sound and moves to the breakfast bar with his sandwiches. “Asgard is not so very different in that sense. Our artificers would rather produce items which are needed, rather than expend too much of their time and energy in the pursuit of inventions which may not see use.”

“So your kitchens just have a range?” Steve asks. Thor nods.

“Our hearths are similar to that device, though they can also be used for smaller tasks in the same way these other items are.”

“Sounds pretty amazing.” He raises his eyebrows. “So I take it you know this because you were on kitchen duty now and then?”

Thor smiles between bites of sandwich. “When I was young and unruly my parents had me work among the various staff of the palace so that I might know what their duties entailed. Any that I particularly disliked became punishments as I grew older.”

“And which ones didn’t you like?”

“I claimed to appreciate them all.”

Steve can’t help himself; he laughs out loud at the idea of Thor trying to tell such a bald-faced lie, now or however many centuries (or was it millennia?) ago that would have been. With a wry smile, Thor admits, “They were not fooled. Helping clean the stables or hearths was my usual punishment, for they rightly guessed I loathed those the most.”

“Manure and greasy charcoal will definitely leave an impression.”

“Yes. In both one’s mind and on one’s clothes.”

Steve manages to not choke on his bagel, lox, and cream cheese. They eat quietly after that, Steve lost in thought about tomorrow, and Thor looking like he’s considering something in great detail. 

As they’re cleaning up from their snack, Thor says, “How long will you remain here?”

“Just for today. We’ve got a few places here in town to check tomorrow, and if those don’t get us anywhere we’re heading to Virginia. There’s a facility where they housed Bucky in the basement of a hospital.”

“You believe he may go to some of the places he was kept?”

“Yeah.” Steve toys with the kitchen towel he was using. “I mean, it’s a start. If nothing else, might give us some idea of what they did to him, so when we _do_ find him we can give him whatever help he wants.”

Thor folds his arms. “There is a way I could aid in the search for your friend.” Steve raises his eyebrows, and Thor continues, “The guardian who watches over the Bifröst, Heimdall, can see very nearly anyone and anywhere within the Nine Realms.”

 _Magic_ , Steve reminds himself. He tells himself his heart didn’t just skip a beat. “You mean he could just, look, and see where Bucky is?”

Thor nods. “Though, it would be in the moment that he looks, and if as you suspect your friend is not remaining in any place for over long, the information would only be useful for a short time.”

“Is there any way to communicate across the bridge?” 

Thor shakes his head. Steve frowns. “So...wouldn’t you have to go back to Asgard to ask him to help?”

“Yes.”

Steve can’t help but remember the look on Thor’s face earlier. Jane Foster isn’t the only reason Thor’s not in Asgard, and whatever those other reasons are, they’re probably not trivial. Added to this is the simple fact that it feels a little too much like what Bucky is no-doubt trying to avoid right now—external control over his existence. An alien tracking him from who-knows-how-many lightyears away might not be quite the same, but it’s not all that different either. 

So he says, “Thanks, but we’ll stick with this. If it doesn’t pan out, I’ll think about taking you up on that offer.”

Thor ducks his head, accepting Steve’s decision with equanimity. He seems to think something over, then says, “I can also join you, if it would be helpful. I am, Stark and Darcy tell me, somewhat obviously not of your world, and so I cannot move among the people of Midgard unnoticed. But there are other ways I could be of use.”

Steve has to agree with Stark and ‘Darcy’ that, even in human clothes, Thor exudes a Not Humanness that’s hard to miss unless you’re being willfully ignorant. But he can understand all languages—spoken, written, or signed—with minimal to no effort, and there’s no denying that’s invaluable all on its own. Countermeasures designed for use against humans (even super soldiers) are unlikely to put a dent in him, or if they do, he’ll just heal up, meaning any Hydra cells they might stumble across wouldn’t pose nearly as much of a threat. And, of course, there’s the part where he can quite literally control the weather.

However... “Actually, I think it might help me more if you were here. You can move around a lot faster than we can, so if we need someone to go somewhere quickly—someone who can talk to anyone wherever that is—you’d be our first call.”

“That is something I can do,” Thor says, and he appears satisfied with the idea. “And if you ever find yourselves in need of aid in a more immediate sense, I hope you will not hesitate to contact any of us.”

Sam wanders in then, and says, “Oh believe me, even if he won’t, _I_ will ring all of you up the second I don’t think we can handle something. I’m not too proud to ask the Avengers to save my ass.” He offers his hand to Thor. “Sam Wilson.”

Like he did with Steve, Thor clasps Sam’s arm instead of shaking his hand, but Sam’s recovery is, Steve thinks, quite a bit smoother. “I am pleased to meet you Sam, Son of Will. I am Thor.”

“Damn straight you are. You just visiting?”

Thor says, “I am here because Jane’s work has brought her here. But I have not determined how long I will remain in Midgard.” 

“Oh, you hang out with Foster? Got it.” Sam gestures at himself and Steve. “Like I was saying, if we’re in a tight spot you can count on getting a call.”

“Then we should be certain you will always have a way to call upon us,” Thor says. In response, Sam pulls a pair of smartphones out of his pocket and hands one to Steve; they’re identical save for the colors (Sam’s is red and white and Steve’s is red, white, and blue). 

“Really?” Steve says, eyeing the phone. Sam grins.

“Look, you want a direct line to this place and anyone in it? Now you’ve got it. 4G LTE _and_ satellite. And the camera sensor’s top of the line.” He demonstrates by taking an impromptu photo of Steve and Thor, then shows them. It’s really not bad, Steve has to admit.

“If I open the contacts, is everyone already going to be pre-programmed in here?”

Sam says, “Do you need to ask?”

No, he probably doesn’t. Steve tucks the phone in his pocket. “So what’s the plan?”

“Hill’s got some things for us. Says we should come by her office.”

“Then lead the way,” Steve says. As Sam turns to go, Steve gestures for Thor to come with them.

“Come on. If you’re gonna be on standby, you should be in on this.”

Thor hesitates for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s been at a loss for what to do with himself. Sure, Earth is big and there’s plenty for him to explore, but what Steve knows of Thor says he’s a person used to duty coming in the form of action, much like himself. But he might also be reluctant to intrude on what are fundamentally Earth affairs. He’s not just a random person from Asgard or wherever he’s from—he’s the son of their leader. His involvement in anything could be seen as political. 

“You are certain?” Thor asks, and Steve is sure he’s right at least in part.

From where he’s paused in the doorway, Sam says, “ _I_ am. Let's go,” before Steve can reply. Steve laughs.

“Positive. Come on.”

Thor glances between the two of them, then nods and falls in next to Steve. 

As they make their way down the hall to the elevator, Steve feels the tense anxiety of earlier in the day bleed away. Between the offer of Thor’s help, Stark and Colonel Rhodes’ assistance, and the promise of new information from Maria, he feels hope—fragile and new but still real—being to unfurl in its place.


End file.
